White Noise
by Bleached Carrot
Summary: The vault has been opened and Pandora's climate has taken a turn for the worse. Unfortunately, completing this mission has drained Roland of all enthusiasm, leading him transfer his leadership of the hunters to Brick.
1. Chapter 1

With a sudden gasp, Lilith took cover behind the towering physique of Brick. Had she known that Pandora's sand storms would intensify upon opening the vault, she would have left as soon as she had claimed her reward. Unfortunately, Mordecai had convinced her to stay, and now she regretted it more than ever.

Despite his _many_ shortcomings, there was something about that man that drew her to him. She had always been unable to discern just what it was, but she knew for a fact that it wasn't his frail body. He looked just as feminine, if not more so than her. Lilith glanced to her side, searching for the effeminate hunter, and couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Her first thoughts were of a rag doll being blown about in the wind, but when she saw Mordecai's comic figure as he struggled to stand; she immediately pictured him as the tumble weed from the old spaghetti western flicks.

"Remind me why we're out here in the middle of nowhere!" He called out to Brick; Lilith's temporary wall.

The large man heaved his heavy shoulders in a shrug, raised one massive arm to shield his eyes from the onslaught of sand and debris, and kept walking forward.

"Later," He replied, quietly enough that only Lilith could hear it. "When we're out of this storm."

.

The storms had been raging for far too long, and Roland was tired of it all. With each passing day, he felt himself slipping into apathy. It had reached the point where he was no longer fit to lead the group. Eventually, the leadership was delegated to Brick; an unlikely choice to be sure, but he was the toughest son of a bitch that Roland had ever come to know. That was saying quite a lot, considering that he was formerly of the Crimson Lance.

_'I'm going to find my sister.' _Brick had told him before leaving with the others.

It had been three days since then, but Roland wasn't worried. He was bored. With an elongated sigh, he peered out the window of the bunker.

_'Should've tagged along_...' He thought to himself as he stared idly at the barren landscape.

.

"Collecting those, are we?" Lillith grinned at Mordecai. He could only shudder as he pulled the fourth pair of underwear from his face.

"What the hell are people leaving out here," he groaned. "And more importantly, why am I the only one having to deal with this shit?"

"Aw, I think it's a good look for you. You already have that silly mask, so why not complete the superhero look by wearing those panties on the outside?"

"And have people start referring to me as Patricia?" He pointed to the girly handwriting on the elastic. "Hey, come to think of it, this writing seems really familiar."

Lilith opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by Brick.

"Enough. Storm's dead. Let's rest."

Without waiting for either to respond, Brick set his bag down and collapsed on the ground. Moments later, he was sound asleep.

Lillith and Mordecai, on the other hand, were denied the pleasure. It seemed as if the ground were shaking each time Brick drew breath. It was now that Mordecai remembered why they slept alone during their prior adventures. Of course, sleeping alone really meant isolating Brick in his very own room. Preferably sound proofed. Here, they had no such luxury, and Mordecai could only sit and wonder how many minutes; or seconds, of sleep he could claim as his own when Brick would wake and begin to repack his things. He cast a tired glance to Lillith, and rubbed the lenses of his goggles.

_'There one second, gone the next. Fucking warlock.' _He thought to himself as he studied Lillith's strange behaviour. Phasewalking, she had called it. The ability to simply disappear from whatever plane of existence the vault hunters were inhabiting. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that she had the ability to teleport. Lillith had used the ability countless times in their quest to open the vault, to varying degrees of effect. In Mordecai's opinion, the ability was good only for a quick and dirty retreat. He chuckled quietly to himself at the thought.

_'Quick and dirty. How appropriate.'_

It wasn't long before Lillith blinked back into reality; her position unchanged from when she had initially disappeared.

"Sometimes, I wish I were deaf," Lillith complained as she sprawled out on the ground, resting her hands behind her head. "Because having to sleep near this guy is going to make me think that I have some kind of a chronic sleeping disorder."

"We could bury him a few feet underground," Mordecai offered a wry smile as he continued. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Hell, he'd probably thank us when he wakes up. I hear that all of this dirt is packed full of those vitamins and minerals or whatever the hell you want to call them."

"He'd be thanking us with his fists, Mordy. That's gratitude that I don't need."

There it was. The pet name she had given to him so long ago. Mordecai groaned.

"I suppose you've got enough holes as is," He rose to his feet and extended a hand to Lillith. "Come on. Let's find somewhere else to sleep."

Lillith looked at the hand, then at the creepy mask that Mordecai was so fond of wearing. She stole another glance at his hand before standing up without his assistance.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Roland! It's been three whole days and you haven't bothered to Catch-A-Ride, man! What gives?"

There was a familiar voice. Roland looked over his shoulder at the scrawny figure of Scooter; quite possibly the only redneck left on the rock known as Pandora. He still didn't believe that this man had come from that woman who called herself Moxxi. Just how old was she, anyway? He slowly shook his head, and struggled to hide the smile that began to creep its way to his lips. He hadn't forgotten what Scooter had said about his mother when he had been hired to put a stop to Bone Head.

_'The Catch-A-Ride near Fyrestone's more busted than my momma's girl parts. Why don't you take a poke at it? The uh... system, not my mom. Hotdog down a Skag den, know what I'm sayin'?'_

Scooter always claimed that it was Lucky who 'broke' his mother, but from what Roland had seen, his impression of Moxxi began to deviate from what he had heard. Of course, he never mentioned this to Scooter. Strange as he was, he made for a good friend, and he sure as hell wasn't the kind of person you'd want on your bad side. His Runners were damn useful, too.

"Got nowhere to be." He replied, now turning his whole body to face Scooter.

"Aw, Rakkshit man. Why don't ya take a Runner an' catch up with yer buddies? Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don't know shit about how these runners are built, so you're just wastin' away down here anyway."

Roland sighed and slouched against the wall. "Don't even know which way they went. Seems like a waste of my time, and your money."

"That's where ye'r wrong. I made sure to equip all'a my Runners with them position...things. How d'you think I've been gettin' back all them that you took when you was on yer vault adventure?"

Roland grunted and closed his eyes. They had taken Scooter's Runners to hell and back on their previous quest. The fact that he was still offering to let him and his friends use the service was ludicrous.

"So let me get this straight," He opened his eyes again and stared down at Scooter. "You want me to take another one of your Runners, possibly getting it destroyed in the process, and expect nothing in return?"

"Naw, I'll be expectin' somethin' this time," Scooter grinned crookedly.

Roland crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"You'll be takin' me with you."

"Seriously? Why would you want to go out there with me? It's not like we'll be looking for scattered parts."

Scooter shrugged and sat forward in his seat.

"I get bored when it's just me an' my girls," He motioned toward his Runners with a nod of his head. "I figure that the four of you are always up to somethin', so why not tag along?"

Roland sighed. Scooter's reason for wanting to come along was essentially the same as his for leaving. Boredom seemed to represent both ends of motivation. "If you really want to come, I'll not stop you."

"Awesome!" Scooter's crooked grin grew wider, and he jumped up to his feet. "Just lemme grab my things an' we'll be on our way. Oh, while I'm packin', feel free to pick a colour for our ride. In case you've forgotten, you can paint 'em all kinds'a pretty colours."

_'All kinds of pretty colours, huh?' _Roland smirked and made his way to the nearest Runner. The vehicle was built similarly to the old matchbox toy cars he'd used to play with as a kid, sans any fancy colour, of course. Scooter had a habit of stripping the paint from every vehicle that he salvaged, only to repaint them again. _'Guess it's just another one of his hobbies.' _Roland thought to himself as he slowly brushed his hand across the Runner's surface.

"Picked a colour yet?" Scooter's voice rang out from two rooms over. "If I remember right, you guys sure were fond of my flamingo job. Can't say it's the manliest thing to be ridin' around in, but hey, I'll not judge."

"Heh." The memories came flooding back to him in one fell swoop. He and his friends had finally repaired Scooter's Catch-A-Ride system, and the team were awarded with both a vehicle and a choice of colour. Each member had decided that they wanted a different colour: Roland had chosen 'Blaster Master' Red; Mordecai's was 'General Flee' Orange; Lillith chose "Blue Sky' Blue, and Brick wanted 'Flamingo' Pink. They all had to laugh at that. Of course, Brick didn't find it funny in the slightest. In the end, they all took pity on him and let him have the colour that he wanted. After all, Brick had been known to sever heads with his pinky finger. He wasn't the sort of man they'd ever want to cross. That, and Roland valued his head. That's where all of his thinking was done. He assumed that he could say the same for Lillith. Mordecai, on the other hand, only used his head for tactics. The rest of his thoughts were handled elsewhere.

"What the hell," Roland smiled. "let's take pink."

Scooter's laughter echoed down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed that each day on Pandora was a battle waiting to be fought. Even as he slept, Brick was in a position where he would be able to dismember just about everything; save himself, within a 5 mile radius. It always left the others far too wary of him. Sure, he was a pretty scary man, but he drew a very distinct line between his friends and his enemies.

He rolled over in his sleep and spat out a stream of sand, much akin to a whale clearing its blowhole. Being entirely unconscious at the time certainly had its benefits.

It had taken Brick a long time to understand the damage that he was capable of inflicting. When his allies had first mentioned it to him, he laughed it off. Not because he was modest, but because he had no memory of such a thing. His 'zerker rage,' as Mordecai liked to call it, left Brick's mind entirely detached from his body. It was an experience quite similar to fainting, but only on the inside. Over time, Brick had managed to channel it somewhat. He was able to enter the state at will, as well as it being his typical emotional response. Anger, mostly. Lillith made a habit of teasing him about it, saying that he wouldn't be much different in bed. The main point of change being fewer fists. Of course, that had given her pause before she'd taken back the statement with her typical, '_or will it?' _remark.

He stirred for a moment, and opened one eye. A typical habit that he had grown accustomed to on Pandora. One could never be too careful when the general population would sooner take your life before your wallet. Seeing nothing; Lillith and Mordecai included, he allowed himself to relax once again, and in his reverie, he took a moment to reflect on all the times that he had entered _the state_. It was troublesome, not being able to remember much during those episodes. Whenever he felt his anger take control, it was as if his world had become television snow. The constant drone of white noise and blurred vision, and seeing nothing but red when he came to. If he were a lesser man, he would probably be insane by now. Of course, the impression that he left upon others was never much better.

It didn't take long for the clutches of sleep to take hold of him once more, but one thought lingered in his mind: people simply had the wrong impression of him.

* * *

**AN: **Yeah, this one's a short chapter AND it's incredibly late. My excuse is that I just couldn't be bothered writing anything... BUT I DID SOMETHING IN THE END!

Anyway.

I seem to be getting back into the swing of things, so you can probably expect to see more frequent updates. Just know that I'm not promising anything. I can be incredibly lazy when I put my mind to it.

Oh, by the way ... does anyone know how to set margins on html documents? I'm so clueless with these things.

Cheers.


End file.
